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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988877">now let me run</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill'>allmywill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Duran Duran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Big Thing era, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:49:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28988877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick wakes in the middle of the night after an unsettling nightmare.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nick Rhodes &amp; John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>now let me run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i never specify if Nick and Simon are together here but you can assume they are if you’d like!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He’s running. His legs carry him towards no particular somewhere, faster than light. He thinks he hears the song in the air around him, Simon’s high note echoing in the pitch black sky.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">That’s when he realizes he’s back in Birmingham. He races down Broad Street, everything familiar yet now alien to him. It looks just the same as it did in 1980. But... that can’t be. It’s 1989, isn’t it? The Rum Runner was demolished almost two years ago.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">The club is gone. The memories will remain forever. In this strange new world, Nick carries them with him, in a bag he once carried his makeup in. He stops dead in the empty street and opens it, moments spilling out onto the wet pavement.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">His heart is beating so fast he feels he can’t breathe. But he doesn’t need to, not in this realm at least.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He sees Andy and Roger hanging out backstage, still very much in the band. He sees Simon’s audition, that unforgettable getup he wore. He sees himself, selecting songs for the night, making sure every track was carefully coordinated. Then he sees John still with his glasses, before he was known as John. A young, bright-eyed kid, with the future stretched out long and wide before him. Nigel John Taylor.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">His best friend. He has to find him. That’s why he was running.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Nick packs his memories back up, squeezing them into his bag. They hardly fit: one of him reaching out to John and helping him fix his shirt collar sticks out from the part he cannot zipper shut. He races on anyway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">The Rum Runner comes into view, and just as it does, it starts to rain from the dark sky. Puddles form in the street instantly. Nick stops again and looks down. He catches his reflection in a pool beneath him. His hair is red, the dye is running down his face and it drips into the water. His makeup looks just the same as it did back then, lined eyes with dark lashes, lips tinted with red lipstick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Over the pounding of the rain, he hears something crumbling. He looks back up and sees the Rum Runner being torn down. He gasps and starts to run again, calling out for his best friend as he races past the ever changing scenery around him. “Nigel, Nigel, Nigel!” he hears himself screaming.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He can’t leave him in there. He needs to save him, and quick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">He sees him coming out of the doors as the building begins to fall behind him. Nick lunges forward and pulls him closer, flying wreckage threatening to crush them both. He grips hard onto him, his hands bunched up in an old button down shirt of his he once loved so dearly. He feels solid, real.</span>
  </em>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nick wakes up.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He’s trembling hard, lithe body twisted in hotel sheets and breathing erratically. It takes him a few seconds to remember what country he’s in, let alone what city. Touring will do that to a person. Nightmares don’t help either.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It’s been a while since he’s had one that... realistic yet strange. He can’t deny he’s worried about John. He’s been for some time now. He has lost so much weight that his face is sunken in; he appears sickly. Even the fans are starting to notice. How could they not? He has become a skeleton, a mere shell of his former self. <em>Nigel.</em></span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nigel has been nothing but a mere memory for a long time. The drink and the drugs chased him away, starved him and left him abandoned, behind in the dust. The demolishing of the Rum Runner only solidified that; the fact that he was gone even then.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There had always been a bit of Nigel within John, after he changed his name. Nick caught glimpses of him from time to time, but that was long ago. That was years ago, when they were on top of the world. Now that high is fading and John’s highs are only getting more unpredictable. Especially since Renée left him, things have worsened, especially his coke usage. It’s impossible not to notice.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nick sits up in bed and reaches for the phone. He calls Simon, even though he’s only next door. He doesn’t have it in him to get out of bed at this hour.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">It rings a few times until he picks up. “<em>Hello?</em>” he hears his groggy voice come through the receiver.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Come over to my room,” Nick says, sounding much like a plea.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">There’s rustling from the other end. “<em>Something wrong, Nick?</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Sort of, I’ll explain then.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“<em>Okay, let me get something on first. Unless you’d rather me be in my birthday suit.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nick laughs softly. Simon always makes him feel better, no matter how low he happens to sink. “I’m fine, just get over here somewhat clothed.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">He hears Simon hang up the phone and he sighs, pulling the sheets up and flipping around to face the door. Within a minute, a shirtless Simon opens the door joining their rooms.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I was sleeping, you know.” He makes his way over to Nick’s bed, inviting himself in to share with him. “But I had a feeling it was important. What’s up?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nick takes a breath, remembering that vivid dream, how it frightened him deep inside. “I had this crazy dream, about the Rum Runner. And John.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Simon moves closer, propping himself up and waiting for Nick to continue.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I was running down Broad Street, but it was 1980. I looked as I did then, so did everything else. I was carrying an old makeup bag of mine and it had my memories in it, early memories of the band, of all of us. When I got close enough to the Runner, it started raining. I was looking for John... for Nigel. Then everything started to change around me and the building was being torn down. He came out just in time, and I grabbed him.” Nick looks at Simon, his hands starting to tremble a bit while recalling the dream. “It felt like I was losing him, Simon. I’m really worried about him.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Simon notices the wavering in his voice right away, reaching forward and taking him into his arms. Nick quivers and curls himself into his chest, letting himself be comforted.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’m glad you called me.” Simon squeezes him tight. “Is the past bothering you that much?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Head against his chest, Nick thinks it over while Simon runs a hand up and down his back. “Perhaps that’s part of it. We’re not in the best place right now, are we? As a band?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I wouldn’t say that,” Simon replies.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“What would you say then?”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Lulls happen, we knew it was happening a couple years back. If you’re happy with the music we’re making, that’s all that matters.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nick isn’t sure how long this lull is supposed to last. It feels as though it’s been one long descend down, only getting darker the further they go.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I am happy with it, I suppose. Like I said, I’m worried for John. That’s the main thing. Aren’t you worried too? That one day we’ll go to wake him and he just...” Nick can’t even finish that sentence. It hurts too much to think of it.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“Of course I am. He’s a ticking time bomb. With Renée leaving, I’m even more worried. She was his last hope, I feel, one of the last people capable of getting to him,” Simon’s voice softens, the topic touchy for him as well. “Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try though. He still cares about you and trusts you, even when it’s hard to tell.”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Nick wraps his arms around Simon’s middle, clinging to him. He is reminded then just how much he needs him.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I hope you’re right,” Nick says, feeling the exhaustion creeping back. His lids are growing heavy; Simon’s warmth surely is to thank.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">“I’ll try harder to look out for him. Okay? Can’t have us falling apart. You both mean too much to me.” Simon’s gentle voice and touch soothes Nick, his fears put to bed for the night.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">Neither of them speak for some time, Simon just holding him close as Nick drifts. He clings, comforted knowing that if his dreams pursue, he won’t be alone when he wakes this time.</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">The last thing he hears before he falls asleep is Simon’s voice, close to his ear, whispering reassuring words. “We’ll be alright, everything will be alright...”</span>
</p><p class="p3">
  <span class="s2">A kiss is planted on top of his head, and he falls, into a deep, relaxed sleep.</span>
</p>
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